


Flame Trees

by Seta_Kaita



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Fluff, M/M, Shane is a good friend, Some pining, Songfic of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5045617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seta_Kaita/pseuds/Seta_Kaita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick has just moved back to King County from living in Atlanta for twelve years. Nothing much has changed, which only makes him miss his best friend Daryl all the more. But Daryl is back in Atlanta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flame Trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demented_queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demented_queen/gifts).



> The song to this fic is Flame Trees by Cold Chisel.
> 
> Google told me there were trees called flame tress in America, too, but since this is an Aussie song, check out what an Australian flame tree looks like: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brachychiton_acerifolius  
> Now, imagine those all along the road and you get what I'm talking about in this fic.
> 
> I don't usually do this, but there was no beta-reader for this fic. All mistakes are my own, but I certainly don't mind you pointing them out to me ;)
> 
> A gift to demented_queen, because she just rocks.

Rick put the car in park and leant back in the driver’s seat to savor the familiar sights of King County’s main street. People were milling about, some of them waving at their police cruiser. Next to him, Shane was sipping his coffee and chatting up the mail woman. Rick grabbed his own paper cup and considered whether he should go to the country fair next weekend, eying the poster on the other side of the road. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, so he might as well be social, he figured. He might have grown up in this town, but he had left all his friends back in Atlanta. Well, except for Shane maybe. Even his son Carl had stayed behind when Rick had moved back here to take up the job at the Sheriff’s Department.

Rick knew the boy was mad at him, for Carl had accused him of running away. They were both still grieving the death of his wife, who had died in childbirth. But that had been two years ago and no matter how often Rick told Carl he had made his peace with the tragedy and didn’t want to forget anything about his wife, the teenager wouldn’t believe him. And he had refused to leave the city he was born in, either. So Rick’s friend Michonne had volunteered to take him in.

Which left Rick where he was now, in the town he had always wanted to grow old in, with a job that gave him far more peace of mind than the police force in Atlanta could have ever done, but without a wife, his son and without his best friend Daryl, which Rick secretly found to be the worst part. If that didn’t make him some kind of gigantic asshole…

It was true though, he missed Daryl the most. Without conscious thought, he took his phone out to check for texts from the grumpy man, but Daryl was probably busy working at the garage and couldn’t text with greasy fingers. Rick smiled fondly at the memory. If Daryl knew he was moping to himself, he would kick Rick’s ass, he was sure. Daryl had been the one to support his decision the most.

“Ya love the place, Rick. Lori wan’ed ta go back fer years. So stop fucken ‘round ‘n jus’ do it, man.” He’d told Rick as they’d been loading the last box in the truck. Slapping Rick’s back in goodbye like he was coming back the next day, but then standing and looking after the car for as long as Rick could see him in the rear view mirror.

Rick sighed softly, pocketing the phone and contemplating the country fair’s poster again. He really should go.

“Hey brother, you coming for a drink tonight?” Shane’s voice penetrated his thoughts and he tore his unseeing gaze away from the other side of the street to settle on Shane instead. His childhood friend looked at him hopefully, master of puppy eyes. Rick chuckled at that.

“Yeah, sure.” Shane beamed at him and punched his arm lightly before biting into a sandwich. Rick looked down at his own lunch in his lap and remembered that he was supposed to be eating.

 

\---***---

 

When Rick left the bar, the sun was setting. He hadn’t stayed long, just for one beer, but that was enough so the guys knew he wasn’t being snobbish and stuck up, because he had lived in the big city for so long. That he did appreciate his hometown, but simply wasn’t in the mood for a night of drinking. He just wanted to go home, call Michonne to check on Carl and then talk to Daryl all night long.

The orange-red sun was kissing the pavement under his boots as he walked home, being responsible and not driving even after just one beer. He took in the quiet town, greeting a few people that were still out while most of the town was having dinner. When he reached the road where he lived now, he was temporarily blinded by the burning red blossoms of the flame trees framing the road. The sunlight made them look like they were really on fire. He stopped in his tracks to take in the display.

“You’re doing well.” Shane had told him underneath one of those trees when he had helped Rick moving in. “After all this time, you look just the same.” He had claimed with a grin that flashed so white and happy that Rick hadn’t had the heart to tell him he was about to turn around and run away for real.

For the town hadn’t changed at all, it looked like an exact copy of Rick’s memories. In King County, he mused, there was no change, there was no pace, everything within its place. And that just made it harder to believe _she_ would never be around again. He had met Lori in high school here, young and bright, she had been ambitious, wanting to study law in the big city. So when they had learnd she was pregnant, he had asked for her hand in marriage and taken her to Atlanta, so she could go to college. In the end, they had never had enough money to make that dream come true. And twelve years later, she was dead. And Rick made sure no one ever said her name, because to him, it was sacred.

He walked on, weary and blinded by the flame trees.

 

\---***---

 

“Why didn’ya stay?” Daryl asked, letting Rick know he didn’t approve.

“I couldn’t. I’m just not in the mood to play that game. You know, when you’re sitting with the guys and see which one can tell the biggest lies. Shane has it down to an art form and I couldn’t take his bullshit tonight.” Rick lied. If anything, he’d always been one to hang on Shane’s lips. He loved how the man could make up a story in the blink of an eye. And it seemed like only Rick could ever tell when he was lying. Another thing that hadn’t changed in this town.

Daryl grunted in reply.

„And they never seem to let up on asking me ‘Do you remember so-and-so?‘ and I go like ‘Who the fuck are you talking about?’, which might be funny the first fifty times, but seriously, it’s been more than a decade and I don’t even remember most of the guys on the force.” He sighed heavily, cutting his rant off, because he hadn’t called Daryl to bitch to him. A long moment of silence passed between them, the sounds of Daryl cooking the only noise in Rick’s ears. Rick could have watched him in the kitchen for hours; it had a certain soothing effect on him to watch people create something with an ease that spoke of deep-rooted, but unconscious passion.

“Anyway, how was your day?” Rick finally asked, fully aware of the parallelism to what his marriage had been like. If Daryl had noticed, too, he didn’t call him out on it.

“Nuthin’ special. Lots a cars, Merle bitchin’, boss bitchin’, you bitchin’.” Daryl drawled and Rick took a moment to savor the timbre of his voice before bristling like Daryl expected him to.

“I ain’t bitching!” He protested and drew a good-natured laugh from his best friend.

Really, he only lived for these conversations these days.

 

\---***---

 

The tranquility of King County was most palpable in the mornings, when the sun was just starting to send its weak beams across the horizon and over the roofs of the neighborhood from the east. Instead of a full-on blaze, the red of the flame trees seemed more like the first flickering flames licking on moist wood. There was another one of those magnificent trees towards the back of the Sheriff’s Department. Rick stood at the window of the break room, sipping ghastly coffee and watching droplets of dew reflect the light as the wind rustled the leaves. After a few minutes, Shane emerged from the Sheriff’s office and came to stand next to him. He gave Rick another couple of minutes to finish his coffee and bask in the peace of an early morning in a small town before he passed him a folder.

“Sheriff said to set up a speed check on fifth.” Shane explained, neither of them taking their eyes off the tree.

“Let’s wait until after the kids have been dropped off at school. No point in a speed check when there’s too much traffic to speed, anyhow.” Rick pointed out and Shane hummed in agreement. It was weird in a way, to be in charge of their operations when he had considered himself Shane’s equal all his life. Even weirder with the proof of how far he outranked Shane stitched to his uniform. Shane had always been the loudmouth between the two of them; to have him follow Rick’s orders without question now threw him off on a regular basis. There was no denying how well it worked, though. They had always been a good team.

“Do you remember: nothing stopped us on the field in our day?” Shane suddenly said with a grin, playfully elbowing Rick in the side. And Rick laughed, because he knew what Shane was talking about. There had been a flame tree next to the football field in high school. Rick remembered one of their greatest victories, a particularly late date for football in a year without a proper winter. The flame trees had been in near-full bloom for the match and they had celebrated under the burning red canopy. And they had felt so invincible back then, young, ambitious and ready to take on the world.

He smiled up at Shane, grateful to have a friend who knew how to pull him out of his own head. Shane smiled back and winked at him, turning around to get down to business.

 

\---***---

 

Daryl didn’t pick up his phone that night. He’d texted Rick a few times throughout the day, complaining about “shitloads a work” at the garage and Rick supposed he was still working when his shift ended. When he still didn’t pick up two hours later, he thought Daryl might be at his second job he had mentioned to Rick a while ago. So he called Shane and let the man chew off his ear instead. Long after ten, Daryl’s phone still rang out and Rick decided to leave a voice mail, telling Daryl a little about his uneventful day and that he missed him. He laughed as he told him about the strange truck he had seen today which had reminded him of Daryl’s, except that the color had been wrong. He was seeing things that reminded him of the taciturn hunter all the time and Shane usually laughed his ass off when he mentioned it, claiming Rick was lovesick.

He didn’t tell Daryl that one, of course.

Despite his decision to leave Daryl in peace after the voice mail, he called twice more after he had tossed and turned in his bed, unable to find sleep.

When he hung up on the third try shortly after midnight, he punched the pillow in frustration and finally gave up pretending. So he was apparently crushing on his best friend, what of it? Absence made the heart grow fonder, after all.

And there was nothing else could set fire to this town. No change, no pace, everything within its place. Just made it harder to believe Daryl wouldn’t be around.

_Fuck it_ , he texted Daryl at 1 AM, _I miss u like hell. There u go, laugh if u want._

_Not laughin,_ Daryl texted back in the morning _, miss u 2._

\---***---

 

Rick watched a young couple standing near the ancient, out-of-order Pianola in the corner of the hotel bar, holding hands. It was like a déjà-vu from a dozen years ago; him and Lori standing there while the other folks celebrated graduation, shortly before Rick would leave King County for a new life in Atlanta. Really, nothing in this town ever seemed to change. Even Rick was back here. He wondered briefly if the young man and his girl would go or if they’d stay.

“Well, if that ain’t Officer Friendly.” Rick heard someone say behind him, his mind playing tricks on him, making the voice sound like Daryl’s. He didn’t turn around to find a stranger instead. He could do without the heartache.

“He gone deaf er sumthin’?” He heard the same man ask someone else and a wave of laughter erupted. Then a hand landed on his shoulder and spun Rick around to stare into a familiar set of blue eyes. The brunette strands had grown much longer than Rick remembered them, neatly framing Daryl’s face now. And Rick couldn’t stop that long-forgotten feeling that he had always associated with Lori. It was like the flame trees that would blind the weary driver; taking him by surprise, it rocked him to his core.

“What, ain’t even gunna say ‘llo?” Daryl teased, a huge grin splitting his face in half. The image etched itself onto Rick’s retinas, so he was still seeing that face even as he stood in Daryl’s arms a second later, eyes squeezed shut in overwhelming joy and his face buried in Daryl’s neck. He distantly heard Shane holler “Get a room!” at them as he clutched Daryl’s leather vest tightly and held on for dear life. Daryl’s breath ghosted over his skin lightly and Rick suddenly became aware that he had never touched Daryl this intimately before. The man was like a skittish horse on his good days and a feral mongoose for the other 300 days of the year. But now, he held onto Rick as fast as he did, an arm around Rick’s waist and back each, pressing the whole length of their upper bodies flush together. It was a small eternity before Rick pulled back enough to look into the other man’s eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He gasped out, his voice a mere shaky breath, so close to breaking.

“Lookin’ fer ya.” Daryl answered like it was obvious.

“Well, you found me. You could have texted me.” Rick laughed a little, his insides squirming like a snake pit.

“Woulda spoilt the surprise.” Daryl pointed out and slapped the back of Rick’s head non-too-gently. The boys behind Daryl laughed and Rick suddenly realized they were watching their reunion, so he reluctantly pulled away from Daryl completely.

“I’m surprised, alright. That why you didn’t pick up the phone yesterday?” Rick grabbed his beer and offered it to Daryl, who accepted it with a grateful hum.

“Yeah. Was a bit busy packin’ up my shit ‘n all. Took me fucken hours ta find my sleepin’ bag, coz Merle sat on it. He didn’ wan’ me ta leave.” Daryl explained as he leaned against their table.

“You staying for a while?” Rick inquired hopefully, trying to look casual about it and not fooling anyone.

“Yeah, man. Decided Atlan’a’s fucken borin’ ‘thout ya. So ‘m movin’.” Daryl said with a smirk, clinking his bottle against Rick’s as the waiter put down a new one in front of him.

“You serious? Why?” Rick was torn between trying to act cool and having a heart attack. His pulse was soaring high and he felt light as a feather.

“Coz ya miss me so.” Daryl said simply, eyes open and honest like he wasn’t just shattering Rick’s heart into a million little pieces and putting it back together in a new way, Daryl’s name painted all over every inch of it. Rick was speechless, he couldn’t even feel his hands anymore that held the beer bottle in a white-knuckled grip. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. All that was running through his head was “Daryl’s giving up his life just to be where I am”.

The table was silent, everyone watching the exchange with bated breath. But Rick didn’t know what to say, couldn’t form words that expressed what he felt. What it meant to him that Daryl had even left his beloved brother for Rick.

“Time ta book a room fer tonight. Got a job in’erview tomorrow, but I ain’t found no place ta stay yet.” Daryl remarked after a while, maybe taking Rick’s silence for disapproval. As he pushed away from the table, Rick looked around at the other cops. All eyes were on him and he nearly ducked his head to dodge the looks telling him to man up and get his ass in gear. Daryl was halfway across the room before Rick could get his feet moving.

“Get after him, Rick! Jesus, how can you be so incompetent…” Shane groaned, slapping a hand against his forehead for good measure.

“I don’t know that guy, but if you ain’t getting laid tonight, it’s your own fault!” Lenny snorted, shaking his head at Rick.

Getting la…?

Oh god.

Rick turned on his heel and rushed after Daryl. Cheers followed him as he tried catching up to his best friend – or whatever term was appropriate for Daryl now. He managed to stop the man just short from booking a room.

“Daryl, wait!” He called out to him and the hunter turned around, hand hovering over his pocket to take out his wallet. “Like I’d let you sleep here! You’re coming home with me.” Rick decided, voice firm and leaving no room for discussion. Daryl regarded him for a second, then shrugged.

On the drive home, he saw Daryl blinking against the inferno of blossoms in the flame trees along Rick’s street. The blinding fire in the trees matched the raging flames in Rick’s heart and he could barely keep himself from kissing Daryl until after they had walked through the door.

 

_Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver_

_And there’s nothing else could set fire to this town_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the fic.


End file.
